Rain and wind outside. I'm settling
into another alphabet of hurricanes,
another winter. Who is it this time.
Olive or Maximilian? Blowing
themselves to nothing over the Atlantic
or rattling windows, wanting to get in.

An awkward roll call, someone
at the back of the classroom, barely whispering
their name out loud. Someone else shouting
the room to shreds, the centre of attention.

Impossible to know what damage
will come of each. How many lives
lost,  the floods of tears and water
from what was once the smallest zephyr,
a puff of wind, a tremble in the air.